


take the photographs and still frames in your mind (UK Tour)

by phangirlingforphan



Series: Interactive Introverts (the tour fics) [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Reality, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:54:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14481015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phangirlingforphan/pseuds/phangirlingforphan
Summary: one-shot collection for moments during the UK Interactive Introverts tour. Mostly sticking to canon dependent on what we see they're up to but there may be some canon-divergence too.





	1. in your eyes I'd like to stay

**Author's Note:**

> most fics will be based off of whatever content we get from them on instagram or twitter etc but obviously i'll be fleshing out scenes and adding my own bits. 
> 
> hope you enjoy the first part! leave kudos/comments if you did!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre-show beach walk, nerves and enjoying sweet solitude together.

 

They pick their way down Brighton’s finest pebbled beach before the show. It’s them, the sea and some ominous seagulls darting around what is an ash grey coloured sky.

The weather means it’s relatively deserted; they’ve been recognised a few times, chatted to some lovely viewers and taken some selfies, but now is their time to soak up the last few hours before the craziness ensues. 

Their life is about to become living in a suitcase and scratchy hotel duvets. It’s fine, they don’t mind it, and they’re about to embark upon what will be the time of their life, however a couple of hours to themselves is all they wanted. So, they excused themselves politely from the crew and slipped out through a back entrance of the venue.

“The quiet before the storm is a far too literal saying today,” Dan says, squinting up at the sky.

“I hope it isn’t a storm, storms are a sign of bad luck aren’t they?” Phil says.

“If you’re a superstitious person,” Dan says and shrugs. He looks at Phil. “Which you are, evidently. Maybe we’ll cross a black cat on the way back to the theatre and walk under a ladder, too,” 

Phil playfully nudges him in the ribs. “I’m nervous, let me get my nerves out in peace,”

“You don’t need to be nervous, though,” Dan says, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. He stares ahead at the sea. “We’re good.”

Phil matches his gaze. Beneath the grey sky, the sea is still, lulled and lapping at the pebbles. He listens to the familiar sound of the water as it brushes against the shore. In. Out. In. Out. The sea breathes.

It’s dizzying. Worrying is dizzying. All Phil does is worry, worry about tour sets, videos, paperwork, emails and, well, Dan. He and Dan are pros at this performing malarky and the scale of this tour is smaller than what TATINOF became, yet there’s that pre-show niggle in his mind and it’s making his heart and his head battle it out at the moment.

He figures Dan can sense the anxiety, because next thing he knows his hand is being held and given a reassuring squeeze that symbolises what Dan wants to say out loud. It’s unexpected and public gestures aren’t  _ them _ , but Phil figures this is one of those moments where they don’t care. They’re in control, nobody else. 

“Yeah,” Phil says, copying the breathing of the sea with his own a few times. “We’re good.”

**ii.**

“I am so  _ sweaty _ ,” Dan says, somewhat breathlessly. He peels his shirt off without a second thought and grabs the nearest bottle of water he can find in their backstage area, crunching the plastic as he downs it in one.

Phil feels a little lost for words at the actions. He’s seen him shirtless countless times, heck he’s seen him fully naked during the majority of those times, so the sight isn’t new to him. Yet, sweaty Dan Howell with no shirt and extra curly hair is...well, something.

“You look lost,” Dan says. It takes Phil a full moment to realise he’s talking to him.

“Yeah, sorry,” Phil says, “I, erm,” he curses himself inside. Is he still like a horny teenager at 31? Yes. Especially when his boyfriend looks like Dan. “That went really well,” he adds quickly, “Like, super well,”

Dan looks at the closed curtains, listening still to the cheers and applause as they fade. He wears an ear to ear grin. “I think we aced that.”

**iii.**  


They go over every second of the show, analyse crowd reaction, think about changes they might want to make for next time and dissect tweets they can see being sent at them to a degree they probably don’t need to.

“So,” Dan says. He slides his laptop onto the floor and looks at Phil. “Did you enjoy eye-fucking me earlier?” He grins far too smugly. 

Phil would splutter, argue he didn’t and pout but god knows the energy for it isn’t there. “You took your shirt off, it’s a phenomenon I happen to rather enjoy,”

“Are the snazzy pyjama bottoms and tee not doing it for you now?” 

“I mean, I did just shower with you, my seeing Dan naked quota has been sufficiently filled for the day,” he says and giggles, mouth splitting into a grin. 

“Weirdo.”

**iv.**  


“I miss Greece,” Dan says. He nibbles the end off of another skewer from the masses off Greek food in front of them. “We should go back,” he adds.

Phil doesn’t know why they ordered Greek food but then again Dan offered to pay so he wasn’t about to question it. 

“One day, yeah,”

“I suppose we have quite a lot of the world we promised we’d see first,” 

“There is that minor detail, yep,” He stretches mechanically and groans. “I’m so full, I’m dead,”

“I promise it won’t be takeaways in hotel rooms every night of this tour,”

“But we do it so well,”

Dan nods. “Agreed. Takeaways, shutting ourselves in a hotel room and sex. It’s all rock and roll when we go on tour,”

Phil yawns, and rests his head against the headboard. He closes his eyes, “Mmm, sex would be good,” he murmurs.

“If we both weren’t half asleep and have to be up in less than six hours, it would be fucking wonderful, as it is…” 

“Maybe tomorrow,”

Dan snorts, “Wow are we becoming that couple that schedules sex?”

“As you say, rock and roll,” Phil flits his hand in the air, but with his eyes shut and speech somewhat slurred as he verges on sleep, Dan finds the whole thing both comical and endearing.

He puts his food down and smiles at Phil; sleepy, dozy and beautiful Phil.  

“Let’s get into bed.”

**v.**

Phil is half asleep pretty quickly. Phil is the one who always falls asleep first at home, and today has been exhausting. Not just physical exhaustion, though. Dan recognises the anxiety Phil carries deep inside him. He’s not one to discuss it or make it into a ‘thing’ at all and to be honest he doesn’t need to, but Dan could see the worry and the panic in his eyes earlier at the beach. 

A hand squeeze isn’t a lot, and publicly it’s all he really has to offer. He’s glad he can take the time when they’re alone to care and give gentle kisses and just hold each other.

He settles beside Phil and buries his head into his shoulder, kissing a space above his back. 

They tend to sleep in a multitude of ways. No night is the same. Sometimes, it’s cuddling until they’re too sweaty and they roll apart, fingers still vaguely linked, and other times it’s a case of they’re too tired for romance and they just want to curl up and sleep. 

Dan likes his usual spot, though, pressed to Phil’s back, head by the crook of his neck. Bedtime is their most intimate time, and not just because of sex (although that’s certainly a perk), but because this is their time to be affectionate, away from other eyes, whisper ‘I love you’, be cute, kiss, make-out, hug, do anything they please and have nobody else know about it.

Privacy is imperative for them and as Phil always reminds him: they’re in control. 

Sleep is tugging at Dan’s eyelids. He gives a final deep, satisfied breath and shuts them, content. 

“I love you,” Phil says, it’s slow and sleep-filled but Dan hears it, grins. 

“I love you more,” Dan replies. He makes the effort to hoist himself up and press his lips to Phil’s cheek this time. He lets his arm stay slung across Phil’s waist. He wants the closeness tonight. 

Phil’s hand reaches and grabs at Dan’s hand over his waist, he brings it to his lips and gently kisses it, slowly and softly. 

“Night, Dan,”

Dan smiles. “Goodnight, Phil.”

 


	2. the princess and the pina colada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Phil, I know one sure-fire way of getting a man to shut up,” Cornelia says.
> 
> “Which is?”
> 
> She leans towards him, mouth at his ear, “Sex,” she whispers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up: milton keynes! 
> 
> loosely based off of insta stories of them with cocktails. my mind went wild. 
> 
> warnings for: alcohol, swearing and smut.
> 
> pls leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed, pals

They’re still sweaty and sticky when Louise finds them backstage after their performance. High fives are given as an alternative to a hug and she can’t stop herself vlogging and capturing how proud of them she is. Because damn right she is, with every ounce of her being she knows she couldn’t feel prouder or happier for them. 

“You have the  _ best _ chemistry on stage as well, I don’t know how you manage it,” she says, flopping onto the sofa in their dressing room.

“It’s almost like we’ve been together for 8 years,” Dan remarks, smirk on his face. 

“As well as all the other stuff we do together,” Phil pipes in. Everyone in the room knows he means their radio show and TATINOF and every other crazy presenting gig they’ve done but the damage is done as soon as the words come out. 

Dan is a cross between aghast and wanting to cry with laughter. It’s when Louise says, and with a devious look in her eyes, “Oh, I’m sure you do plenty of other stuff. Never doubted that one, boys,” that he begins the latter.

**ii.**

“I’ll buy the first round,” Phil announces. 

Dan raises his eyebrows. “There’s going to be more than one round?”

“I mean,” Phil says, glancing one more time at the cocktail menu in his hands, “I have to try at least five of these, look at their names!”

“Oo, there’s one with peach schnapps in it, I’m sold,” Cornelia says, “I’ll have a sex on the beach please, Phil,”

Beside her, Martyn’s eyes narrow. “Wrong brother, babe,”

Cornelia’s got a wicked way of being completely blasé and undeterred when she says or does something a little thoughtless or embarrassing. She simply shrugs, puts the menu down and says, “I’ve been with you long enough, might be time to move onto the next one, for all I know he’s a better kisser,”

Phil swears he’s gone as red as her flaming hair. If Cornelia could pass her secret on right now it’d be wonderful.

“Mine,” Dan interjects, grabbing Phil’s hand and pulling him closer, as if there was any space left between them as it is.

Phil’s flushed face lapses into a grin. “Please, keep fighting over me, it’s quite flattering,”

Martyn’s grimace isn’t close to disappearing. “Someone get me a fucking beer, christ, I suddenly have an urge to get really pissing drunk,”

**iii.**

They have a cocktail. And then another. Dan’s moderately tipsy on some concoction of vodka and coffee flavoured liqueur when he tweets a photo of the menu. Phil knows he’s bordering on drunk as it takes him five attempts to get a non-blurry photo.

“It’s just,” Dan starts again, “So fucking stupid, isn’t it? Why assign a fucking drink to a gender? Why?”

Phil has to hand it to Cornelia, she really listens and tries to pique her interest every time Dan rants about something he’s obviously equally passionate and riled up about. She sits there, nodding, making all the right ‘mm’ noises and saying ‘yep’ every couple of slurred sentences. 

His brother, on the other hand, he can see is slumped against the side of the booth, mouth open, snores loud against the vibrato and bass of the music in the bar.

“Don’t you think, Phil,” Dan says, making Phil jump a little and desperately try to figure out how much he’s heard of the very one-sided conversation.

“Absolutely, I agree with you,” he says, nodding furiously for effect, “Stupid,”

“Yeah, it is, in fact,” Dan stands up suddenly, knocking the table and jolting Martyn back to life, “I’m gonna order the Princess one. Yeah, fuck you bartender, see if you like it when a  _ male _ orders a fucking Princess,” 

Dan stumbles over to the bar, resembling Bambi learning to walk a little, and Phil releases a breath. “It’s going to be a long night,” he comments, sipping at his pina colada.

“Aw, he’s quite good really. He makes a great point as well, if you think about it,” Cornelia tries to reason, and for a second Phil feels somewhat bad for complaining, until she says, “But you’re right, if he keeps it up it will be a long night, so we’re going to go now. This one’s napped for the past hour anyway,” she nudges Martyn hard in the ribs, who protests and grunts in reply. 

“You can’t leave me with him when he’s like this,” Phil whines, “I need to think of a new topic of conversation,”

“Phil, I know one sure-fire way of getting a man to shut up,” Cornelia says,

“Which is?”

She leans towards him, mouth at his ear, “Sex,” she whispers, and straightens up, patting Phil on the shoulder and careering a half-asleep Martyn towards the exit, “Have fun,” she says, giving a final wave and wink.

Sex. How the hell is he supposed to get Dan back to their room when he’s just bought a new drink? They had sex this morning and it was pretty damn brilliant, he’s unsure if tipsy, cocktail fuelled sex will be quite the same.

“Where did they go?” Dan asks, sliding back into the booth.

“Oh, they were tired so they left,” 

“Just us then, I guess,”

“Yeah, I guess,” Phil answers, and then the lightbulb is above his head. “Yeah,” he says again, “Yes, it is just us…” 

He glides his hand toward Dan’s thigh, slowly moving it upwards to the waistband of his jeans, fingers flitting around the zipper.

Dan’s head snaps to him, eyes wild. “Phil, not in  _ public, _ ” he whispers sharply, “Can’t you wait til we get back to the hotel room?” 

“No, I can’t,” he says, his eyes dart across to the other side of the room where he can see the neon-lit sign for the toilets. Dan, looking at him still bewildered, follows his gaze.

“Oh my fuck, really Phil?” 

Phil shrugs, aloof. “Why not?”

“Because,” Dan stutters, “I...I don’t know why not. I...can we? Really? Isn’t it a bit gross?”

“We don’t have to have sex, but seeing you all angry about the cocktails, it’s kinda sexy,”

It’s then that Dan’s eyes narrow. “You just want to shut me up with a blowjob don’t you? I know your game, Phil Lester, honestly, the gall you have,” 

Phil remains unperturbed. He raises an eyebrow, “Is it working?”

In one quick motion that Phil barely has time to register happening, Dan downs his entire cocktail and grabs Phil’s hand, starting to stand up.

“Yes, yes it is.”

**iv.**

They find a bathroom, glad that there’s only one, and lock the door hastily.

Dan on his knees and ready to suck at his cock is a sight Phil could never tire of. The sheer thought of it has him aching and biting at his lip. 

They waste no time in getting Phil’s jeans to his ankles, quickly followed by his boxers.

“God, I fucking love you,” Dan says, hand firmly grasped around Phil’s cock, stroking at the base and moving slowly towards the tip.

Breath hitched, Phil says, “I can’t tell if you’re speaking to me or my penis”

“Fuck, both of you probably,” are Dan’s final words before his tongue starts to talk for him, swirling around the head of Phil’s cock.

“Oh god,” Phil moans out, hand gripped against the sink of the bathroom, “You’re so fucking good at this, Dan,” his other hand digs into Dan’s shoulder tightly.

Dan brings his entire mouth around Phil’s cock, feeling the tip hit the back of his throat. He gags a little but keeps going, sucking sloppily, his hand at the base of the shaft, cupping at his balls and rolling them gently.

“That’s it Dan, so fucking good,” Phil spits out, his legs beginning to feel like jelly, the sensation of Dan’s mouth on his cock and the tip brushing the back of his throat bringing a shiver to him. He shudders, completely overwhelmed by the gorgeous feeling of Dan’s mouth on him. 

There’s a warm sensation bubbling in stomach. He knows it’s coming and he’s not sure how much longer he can hang on. 

“I’m so close Dan, so close,”

Dan pulls his mouth away, it’s only for a second but Phil whines impatiently nonetheless. He brings his focus to the head, tongue flicking and swishing around the slit of his cock.

He feels a bubbling in his groin and moves his hands to Dan’s hair, tugging and pulling his head down onto his cock further until he eventually let’s go, shooting inside his mouth, body shuddering and shaking at the sensation. 

Phil keeps a hold on the sink again, steadying himself and blinking several times to clear the lightheadedness that an orgasm always brings.

Dan pulls his mouth off of Phil and falls back against the door, breathing heavily. 

He laughs a little manically, raking a hand through his now slick with sweat hair. 

“God I’m so glad you find my drunk rants boring,”

 

**v.**

They clamber into bed, feeling absolutely exhausted. Phil feels the most tired, he’s still blissed out from what was one of the best spontaneous blowjobs he’s ever received, and very, very happy to have the man of his dreams beside him.

“Well,” Dan says, snickering, “I think that was one of our best decisions,”

“Oh god yes,” Phil agrees, “I definitely think so,”

Dan turns onto his side and leans forward to kiss Phil; it’s soft and slow. 

He takes Phil’s hand and slides their fingers together, “Sorry I’m so dull, by the way,” he says and winks.

Phil laughs weakly, the tiredness washing over him, “Not dull, I just thought we could put your mouth to even better use,”

“Incredible,”

“You are, yeah,” Phil says, tone suddenly serious, “Like, really, really incredible. You’ve ruined me. I’m exhausted.”

“Then get some sleep,” Dan gives him another quick kiss and turns back onto his back, hitching the duvet up closer to his chin.

“Mm, I think I will,” Phil murmurs, evidently halfway there, “I love you, by the way,”

Dan snickers again, rolling his eyes. “I love you too, Phil, but you love my mouth skills most,”

Phil doesn’t reply verbally, but the somewhat committal shrug that moves the duvet is enough of an answer for Dan.   
  



	3. help me, it's like the walls are caving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It is fucked up and – ”
> 
> “I’m so scared of losing you Phil. I wouldn’t fucking survive if I lost you, I, I can’t,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obviously this is reality but they haven't been in a car crash irl, so it's a reality fic with an au idea...
> 
> sorry for lack of updates. life gets you sometimes, doesn't it?

It’s barely a crash. The paramedics are there for precaution, they say that they’ll most likely have a mild form of whiplash and to take it easy for the rest of the evening. If they get headaches or nausea or any other unusual symptoms, they have to get checked out. Other than that, they’re diagnosis is settled at: absolutely fine.

The warm water of the shower runs over him, easing the knots and tension he’s built up in his shoulders; he shudders from the sensation and closes his eyes. The tension doesn’t quite melt away, it lingers; it’s in the small of his back, the bottom of his neck and the shortness of his breath. 

Don’t be daft now, Dan.

-

Peaceful eeriness: it was an oxymoron he used to describe the darkness outside of the car that was nothing more than just that, a description.

Phil had been asleep, something Dan was pleased about as he knew the travel sickness aspect of their tour was really starting to grate on Phil and sleeping was a wonderful escape from that.

The peace came in the quiet hum of the engine. The road stretched in front of them, set alight by blazing headlights, he had A Moon Shaped Pool playing on his iPhone as his soundtrack; melancholy piano and faint wails of lyrics by Thom Yorke helped stir the profoundness of his thoughts that always tend to occur at this hour.

He was on the verge of dozing, head lolling to one side, eyes half open and staring into at that same eerie darkness.

‘Like a deer in the headlights’ was an expression Dan had used many times in his life, but he’d never witnessed it until tonight.

There’s a frantic yell, a screech of tires as the car swerves and an impact when they hit the road barrier.

The deer canters away, Phil jolts awake and can barely register what’s happening until he’s thrown back and forth when they hit the barrier. Dan stays wide-eyed and motionless until it’s over, allowing his body to jerk against the seatbelt and slap back against the seat.

-

He turns the water off and steps out of the shower. The steam and the heat has come to be a little much and is clogging his throat and nose.

But even that doesn’t help.

He runs a hand across his face, past the bags under his eyes and the small amount of stubble dotting along his jaw.

Towel slung over his waist, he goes back into the bedroom and sits on his bed. Well, it isn’t his bed, it’s some undoubtedly scratchy hotel bed that will be awful compared to his bed at home.

His hands wring and he cracks a few knuckles, rolls his shoulders and winces at the ache which proceeds the movement.

Every time he closes his eyes he sees that deer.

He grabs his phone, keen for distraction and is given nothing. No messages to reply to or urgent e-mails to divert his attention.

Texting Phil could help, but when he sees the clock reads 1:45am he figures maybe it’s not a good idea. Just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean Phil shouldn’t too.

His mouth feels dry when he licks his lips, as does his throat and his entire body; just dry and achy and off. 

The depression medication wasn’t perfect but boy did it help with anxiety. 

The point of coming off of them was that he felt finally able to deal with this shit head on, he was mentally strong enough to do this now, to not let it be as big of an issue, to be able to feel in control and capable of pushing past it. 

Yet, as his hand trembles in unison with his bottom lip he questions that decision. 

-

He’s slipped into pyjama bottoms and has a window open. He lets the cool air weave through his hair and quench this feverish feeling he can’t shake. 

Gazing out at the city, he takes a small comfort in the lights in the distance as they remind him of London. 

Unfamiliar cities don’t bother him usually, but when anxiety grips him like a vice he usually can calm it somewhat with the sentimental familiarity that their apartment gives them. He can’t simply scamper into their bedroom and put on a record, he can’t leave and go for a walk in the park opposite and tonight he can’t even see Phil.

They’d booked separate rooms purely because that was all that was available. For right now, trying to squeeze into a single bed with Phil feels a better situation than the one he’s in now. 

Phone in hand, he flicks through the usual apps. He likes a couple of things on Twitter, types out some self-deprecating tweet and saves it as a draft for another time when he has nothing of interest to say.

It’s a few moments later that his phone lights up with a text notification. 

_Are you still up as well?_

_Can’t sleep. You the same?_

_Yep. Want some company? Feels weird not being with you._

_Yes, yes I really fucking do._

-

Not even five minutes later there’s a knock at his door. 

He opens it and all but barrels into Phil for a hug. He sees the dorky space-themed pyjama trousers and the Star Wars t-shirt and grapples at him instantly. 

Phil makes a noise of surprise but settles into the hug, his arms winding around Dan’s waist and chin on his shoulder.

“I knew you weren’t okay,” he says quietly. 

Dan says nothing, only shaking his head against Phil’s shoulder. 

“I’m here now, don’t worry,” 

- 

“It was really scary, that crash, I can understand why you’re feeling anxious,” Phil says.

They’re sat on the edge of the bed, bumping shoulders, hands together and wide awake but exhausted at the same time. 

“I don’t even think it’s that that’s bothering me,” Dan says, “It was the suddenness of it all. It came out of fucking nowhere, Phil,”

Phil nods in agreement. “Yeah it did, I think we’re very lucky there were no other cars around,”

“Exactly!” Dan exclaims, “This is my point,” he gets up and wipes his hands on the back of his trousers. He clears his throat. “It happened. And we were lucky. What the fuck would have happened if we weren’t lucky? Is luck even a thing? I don’t believe in that bullshit but god,” he exhales sharply, “I can’t even, I don’t know what I’m saying,”

“Dan,” 

Dan paces around the room, ending at the windowsill, needing to feel the fresh air again. “I just, it’s fucked up Phil, it’s so fucked up,” he drops his head and stares at the ground.

“It is fucked up and – ”

“I’m so scared of losing you Phil. I wouldn’t fucking survive if I lost you, I, I can’t,”

Phil is behind him instantly, coaxing him into an embrace, “You won’t lose me,” he’s saying, “Dan, look at me,” and their eyes meet, Dan’s are so tired and watery, looking so much like he needs to sleep, a look Phil knows all too well. “It was horrible and I agree it could have been worse and I wouldn’t be able to go a single hour without you but we cannot think like that, it isn’t healthy,”

“I love you so much. Like, so fucking much it’s unbelievable,”

Phil smiles. “I love you too. Do you think you’ll be able to sleep? Shall I stay?”

Dan doesn’t give the answer Phil’s anticipating.

“Marry me. Soon.”

Phil has to blink several times before he can reply. He’s grinning, though, he knows that much.

“We will,” he says, taking Dan’s hand, “I promise,”

“I don’t need a promise, I need a date set, we’ve been waiting too long, Phil,”

“We have been waiting long I know, but I think it’s sensible to wait until after the tour, just…because,” 

“What’s stopping us going to a registry office and doing it tomorrow?”

“Because we both know we want to do it the way we always said,” Phil reminds him gently, “Remember? Hawaii, sunset, just us?”

Dan laughs faintly, “I don’t’ suppose we can add a date in Hawaii to our tour can we?” 

“Afraid not, but we can look at booking it soon,” Phil suggests, “If you want to, that is,” 

Dan leans forward and presses his lips to Phil’s for a slow, delicate kiss. A million feelings and thoughts have been buzzing around his head for an hour now, all of them bad and scary and obnoxiously loud, and then just like that Phil knows how to turn the volume down a little.

“Yes, I really do, I think we need to. It’s time, isn’t it?”

They both grin at each other to the excess of it being sickly and come forward for another kiss, perhaps to seal the deal.

“I’m sorry you’ve been suffering tonight,” Phil says, “You should have text,”

Dan shrugs. “Nah, it’s fine, besides, it’s gotten better now. What’s a night without a little crisis solved by booking our long-awaited elope to Hawaii?”

“Our parents will be livid,” Phil remarks.

“Let them be. We’ll be over the moon with happiness, we’ll have waited like, what, ten years for this? I think we deserve to enjoy it, don’t you?” 


End file.
